Goodbye
by Rukia Blood-Moon
Summary: Holy Rome leaves for war with the promise of seeing Italy again. Song fanfic. Goodbye by Avril Lavigne. Warnings inside.


**Inspired by Avril Lavigne's song 'Goodbye'**

**Warnings: There are probably a crap ton of historical inaccuracies due to the fact I find Wikipedia very hard to read and I can't understand a word it's saying. Also, there is the Germany-it-Holy Rome theory implied heavily and slight cursing.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Goodbye,<em>

_Goodbye,_

_Goodbye, my love_

The sun peeked over the hills, shining it's gallant down on a dirt path where carriages with young men equipped for battle were along with a boy with blonde hair and blue eyes was standing. The boy wore a black cape that whished around his ankles along with a black robe and a ruffle white collar. Atop his head, he wore a black hat with golden lining. The boy clutched a painting, a portrait to be exact, in his hands. The painting showed a 'girl' with short auburn hair, slumbering on a velvet couch.

The boy sighed and gazed down at the painting feeling a wave of sadness overcome him. He was about to leave for war, and he couldn't even summon the courage to say goodbye to the 'girl' he loved most.

_Don't be silly. She's afraid of you. You'll be doing her a favor by leaving, this way she won't have to be so scared anymore. _A voice reasoned from the back of his head, the thought striking him in the heart, filling him with sadness. The boy sighed and whispered to himself, "I suppose your right." Then he tilted his head towards the sky and murmured, "Goodbye Italy. I love you."

Just as the boy was about to turn around and follow the men that were leaving, a painfully familiar voice called out from behind him, "Holy Rome! Holy Rome!"

_I can't hide,_

_Can't hide,_

_Can't hide,_

_What has come,_

A 'girl' with auburn hair and beautiful brown eyes dressed in a green maids outfit was running towards him, carrying a deck broom. Holy Rome jumped and hid the portrait behind him fast as he could.

The 'girl', Italy, was smiling beaming like the suns rays cheerfully as 'she' called out when 'she' was a few feet away from him, "There you are Holy Rome! How are you?" Holy Rome suddenly tensed and he snapped, "Stop!"

Italy's smile faded as 'she' skidded to a halt and stared at Holy Rome. 'Her' eyebrows were furrowed together as 'she' uttered, "Huh?"

Holy Rome swallowed the thickness in his throat. _Italy looks so cute when she has her eyebrows scrunched like that…_ Holy Rome blushed to himself and he shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts. He tried to cover up his embarrassment by frowning at Italy and saying, "Why do you run when I chase you, yet you chase _me _when I run?"

Italy blinked and seemed to be at loss for words. "Holy Rome…"

Holy Rome blushed again at 'her' soft voice and he cleared his throat before saying, "Listen, Italy. There's one thing I need to tell you." Holy Rome's eyebrows began to quiver slightly and his eyes turned sad as he continued, "I-I'm sorry about everything. I have to leave, so you can feel at ease…" He said and gestured towards the fleeting men.

Italy's eyes widened and 'she' stuttered, "W-what do you mean?"

_I have to go,_

_I have to go,_

_I have to go,_

_And leave you alone_

Holy Rome swallowed again, trying to keep down the sadness and pain that was forming in his throat. "I meant exactly what I said." He said quietly. From behind him, two men with long red capes called out to him. "Holy Rome, we'd better get going"

Holy Rome winced and turned his head to look at them. "Okay…" He turned back to Italy and nodded at 'her' slightly. "See you, then. Take care." He said and turned around to follow the two men with capes.

From behind him, he heard Italy whisper to 'herself.' "Are you really leaving? No… I don't want you to, Holy Rome." Holy Rome squeezed his eyes closed and he tried to ignore the way his heart twisted in his chest.

Italy dropped 'her' deck broom and began to wave 'her' arms around wildly, "Wait! Wait! Oh no! What should I do? Holy Rome!" She wailed his name at the end. Holy Rome turned to see tears trailing down 'her' cheeks from 'her' wide, sad eyes. Italy ran over to him and lifted up 'her' dress, giving Holy Rome a nice view from under 'her' dress. Holy Rome's mouth dropped open as Italy slipped off 'her' bloomers and held them out to him.

Holy Rome stared at the article of clothing, blushing madly as Italy sniffed. "Here… Take this to remember me by." Holy Rome was about to decline the gift, stating that he couldn't take 'her' underwear, but stopped when he saw the teary look in 'her' eyes.

Holy Rome swallowed and took hold of Italy's bloomers. He smiled softly at 'her' and said, "Thank you. I accept your feelings." From behind him, Holy Rome could swear that he heard one of the cape guys say, "Why is he accepting underwear as a gift?"

Holy Rome looked down at the gift in his hands and turned back to Italy. "Well then, I'll give you something too." He said, then asked, "What do people do for someone they like at your home?"

Italy blinked and thought for a moment. "Kiss… I think." Holy Rome's cheeks turned red and he murmured. "I-I see." He leaned over, taking 'her' by the hands and pressed his lips against Italy's.

_But always know,_

_Always know,_

_Always know,_

_That I love you so,_

_I love you so,_

When they pulled apart, Holy Rome looked into Italy's gentle brown eyes and said, "I loved you since the 900's." Italy blinked and 'she' looked at Holy Rome, 'her' eyes wide. "R-really?" Holy Rome smiled at 'her' and nodded. "Yes, really. I'm not lying."

Italy smiled delightedly at Holy Rome, making his heart flutter against his ribs. "I'm happy to hear that." Holy Rome smiled and he pulled his hands away from Italy's, their fingers lingering on each other. He stepped back from Italy and said. "Well, see you, Italy. When the war is over, I'll definitely come and see you again." With that, he turned around, blushing and began to follow his men, towards the war that Italy would soon never forget.

Italy was blushing as well, with tears at the corners of 'her' eyes. "O-okay! I'll be waiting. I'll be waiting for you!" She called out after him. "I'll make you lots of sweats and wait for you." When Holy Rome was about to approach the gate and leave the estate, Italy hastily added, "Oh, and don't get injured or sick. We'll see each other again for sure, okay? We will, okay? For sure, okay?" Holy Rome paused and turned around, waving at Italy with bittersweet tears in the corners of his eyes and called out, " No matter how many years pass, I'll like you the most in the world!"

_I love you so,_

_Oh_

Holy Rome meant those words. Rain poured down thickly from the dark clouds that were bunched together like cotton. Holy Rome breath came out in warm puffs of air that one could scarcely see if they focused hard enough. He was on the look out for French attackers while his men slept. Holy Rome was supposed to only be focused on this, but one thought in the corner of his mind kept on nagging him.

It had been over a year since he had last seen Italy. The portrait he kept of 'her' always remained inside his tent where he could see it so when he came back from a battle, it was like Italy was greeting him back home.

The thought of the Italian 'girl' made Holy Rome's heart ache and he felt a lingering suspicion that he wouldn't see 'her' again. Holy Rome blinked and shook his head madly. No. He would see her again. He promised.

_Goodbye,_

_Brown eyes,_

_Goodbye,_

_For now_

A clap of thunder jerked Holy Rome from his sleep, his eyes fluttering open. From the inside of his tent, he could see lightning faintly flickering outside through the dense rain. Holy Rome sighed and shifted his position on his cot and looked at the portrait next to his bedside.

He'd had a nightmare where he had died in one of his battles with France. Italy had been crying next to his casket of white velvet where his torso was completely covered with bachelor buttons, his favorite flower.

Remembering the dream made Holy Rome's heart twist and he shut his eyes. Italy's beautiful brown eyes had been filled with so much pain… just for him. Holy Rome sighed and opened his eyes determinedly. He would have to quit thinking about Italy for the time being and focus on the war. That way he would surely win the war and see 'her' again.

_Goodbye,_

_Sunshine,_

_Take care of yourself_

Holy Rome gritted his teeth against the pain as one of the medics rubbed alcohol on the gaping wound on the left side of his abdomen. When he was patrolling with some of his men, the French had ambushed them killing four of the six men, leaving only him and two others alive, yet severely injured.

Holy Rome had been stabbed by one of the assailants when he was trying to fend of two others. Anger and pain fueled him to take down all three of them and chase the other five away, not without major wounds inflicted.

The doctor took away the alcohol and cloth and proceeded stitching up the hole. He broke one of the promises he made Italy. _"Oh, and don't get injured or sick, okay?"_

That thought made him wince, not from the pain, but from the sinking feeling he got. He sighed and looked up at the azure sky and thought to himself, _Don't worry, Italy. I'll try harder next time, okay?_

_I have to go, _

_I have to go,_

_I have to go, _

_And leave you alone_

Hearing groans of pain from his own men was unbearable. They had lost yet another battle… He tried so hard too. Holy Rome sucked in a sharp intake of air as he struggled to get to his feet, ignoring the stabbing sensations all over his body.

Holy Rome's side wound had just healed up, only to have seven more on his chest, arms, legs, and cheeks. The country managed to get himself on his feet and he limped through the battlefield. Endless mounds of rotting corpses scathed the green meadow they had been battling on. Holy Rome looked around for any signs of movement.

There was none.

With that last thought, a wave of nausea overcame Holy Rome and the boy crumpled to the ground, distantly hearing the cries of men that they had found a survivor.

_But always know,_

_Always know,_

_Always know,_

_That I love you so,_

_I love you so_

Light shined through Holy Rome's eyelids and he grumbled to himself crossly, blinking open his sky blue eyes. Holy Rome found that he was back in his tent and he frowned. What had happened?

Holy Rome suddenly remembered the battles events and he sat up in bed quickly. Instantly, pain jabbed him in the abdomen and Holy Rome looked down to see his chest covered with bandages as well as his arms and legs. How long as he been unconscious.

The nation's eyes widened and he touched his cheek and winced. The pain was still fresh. So the battle must of happened not to long ago. Relief swam through him. Nothing serious must have happened then, since it was such a short time for both parties to heal.

Holy Rome slowly pulled the blanket off of himself and he closely inspected the wounds his bandages concealed. Both of his legs were thickly covered with bandages and hi chest was the same way. His arms, however, were wrapped in a thin layer of gauze so he assumed that they weren't as injured as the rest of his body.

Holy Rome timidly tried to lift one of his legs to climb out of his cot, but pain arched his leg and he hastily put it back down with a grimace. He sighed and shook his head, then trying to look for something positive to think about. The war was almost over from what Holy Rome could tell and both sides were extremely tired. Holy Rome might be able to defeat France, despite the numerous injuries he had. Oh well. At least the injuries meant he was still alive and breathing. Alive to where he could see Italy's face again.

_La lullaby,_

_Distract me with your rhymes, _

_La lullaby,_

_La lullaby,_

_Help me sleep tonight,_

_La lullaby,_

_La lullaby,_

_La lullaby_

Holy Rome felt a wave of drowsiness wash over him and he laid back down on his cot with a sleepy smile. The thought of seeing the Italian soon filled him with warmth. He could almost hear 'her' singing one of those Italian songs 'she' always sang while 'she' was cleaning.

_I have to go,_

_I have to go,_

_I have to go,_

_And leave you alone_

Blood dripped from the series of sword wounds Holy Rome had gotten. The battle cries of his and the France's men echoed throughout the battlefield as Holy Rome gritted his teeth against the searing agony he experienced every time he tried to take a step.

This battle was taking a turn for the worst. Holy Rome lost over half of his men and the French were loosening their strong hold on their defenses.

Screams of agony pierced the sky and Holy Rome winced and clutched his chest as if it was his own. Actually, it pretty much was his own and he fell to his knees, clawing at his chest, his blue eyes wide. Pain scorched his chest like fire and Holy Rome let out an agony-filled shriek that joined others made by his men.

_But always know,_

_Always know,_

_Always know,_

_Always know,_

_That I love you so,_

_I love you so_

Holy Rome felt another spasm of pain erupt in his chest as soon as he let out the scream. He froze and began coughing, as if he had wanted to clear the pain that way. Holy Rome felt something snake up through his throat and he covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to allow the substance to pass through his lips.

The empire failed, however, and when he expected bile to seep through his hands, to his surprise he felt something dry and ashy fill his hands.

Holy Rome blinked in confusion and pulled his hand way from his mouth and he stared at the substance in his hand. In his hand, black flakes of ashes spilled through his fingers and onto the bloody ground .

Holy Rome stared at the ashes in hand in shock, forgetting about the pain that taunted his body. _W-what is this?_

_I love you so,_

_Oh,_

_I love you so,_

_I love you so,_

_I love you so,_

_I love you so_

Footsteps sounded from behind Holy Rome and he whirled around on his knees to see three French soldiers thundering towards him. Holy Rome's eyes widened and he struggled to get to his feet to no avail. The men were approaching him faster by the minute. _No! I can't die here, I have to see Italy! Even if it's one last time, I have to see her!_ He screamed in his head, thinking of the gentle Italian with a sinking feeling. He had to see her again. He promised.

The men had reached Holy Rome and two of them gripped his arms firmly, making it to where his struggles were useless. The third man walked over to where he was in front of the kneeling nation with an evil glimmer in his eyes.

The man unsheathed his sword with a wicked grin, shoving it under Holy Rome's chin and lifting it up, forcing the boy to look at him straight in the eyes. The Frenchman smiled at him and tipped his head to the sided. "_Un dernier mot, gamin?(Any last words, brat?)" _Holy Rome merely scowled at him fiercely and spat blood in his face.

The man's face turned red with anger and he took the blade from underneath Holy Rome's chin and lifted it above his head. Holy Rome closed his eyes and desperately thought one last thing.

_Please forgive me, Italy…_

The Frenchman swung his blade down at Holy Rome, striking him in the chest. Holy Rome felt excruciating pain and then everything went dark…

_Goodbye,_

_Brown eyes,_

_Goodbye,_

_My love_

Holy Rome blinked his blue eyes opened and sat up in confusion. He looked around him and found that he was in a lush green field with wildflowers occasionally coming into view. The sky was a beautiful shade of periwinkle without a cloud marring its pretty surface.

Everything was so peaceful, that Holy Rome temporarily forgot the events that had just taken place. Memories of the battle slammed into Holy Rome and his eyes widened. He jumped to his feet and looked around wildly, searching for any signs of the French. No one seemed to be here except him.

That's what he thought, at least until a large shadow cast over him. Holy Rome whirled around and stepped away from the figure, raising his fist to punch his or her lights out. When he focused on his enemy, his eyes widened in disbelief and he dropped his hands in shock.

"G-Grandpa? Germania?" He choked out and the man with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a stern face similar to Holy Rome's very own looked down at him. Germania smiled ruefully and said, "Hello, Holy Roman Empire. How have you been?" He asked coolly, while Holy Rome continued to stare at him in disbelief.

"H-how… why… B-but you're dead!" Holy Rome said, finally managing to say something. Then he turned red when he realized what he had just said. Germania smirked at his grandsons embarrassment and he reached over to pluck his hat off his head and ruffle his hair.

"There is no need to act embarrassed, Holy Rome." Germania said. "After all, you _are_ right. I am dead." Holy Rome blinked and stared at his grandpa, a million questions running through his head. Holy Rome selected the two that nagged at him the most and he asked, "Where an I? Am I dead?"

Germania paused for a moment, thoughtfully before putting out one of his hands and shaking it slightly. "You are at Pangaea. It's where all nations go when they pass away. And as for being dead…it's something like that." Germania said and sat down on the ground and gestured for Holy Rome to join him. After a moments hesitation, he sat down on the soft grass next to Germania.

"Your entire empire has indeed dissolved." Germania began to explain, the first remark already making Holy Rome wince. "And you have been slaughtered by French soldiers and have been invaded." Germania told him and passed him his black hat back. Holy Rome nervously clutched it but didn't put it back on. "And?" Holy Rome inquired.

"Because of that, your old land is unavailable to serve as an anchor to keep you alive and on earth, so at the moment, you are unable to go back as a country." He explained and a sinking feeling appeared in Holy Rome's stomach. His face fell and he looked at the hat in his hands, feeling tears beginning to form in his eyes. He couldn't go back. He couldn't see Italy again. _I'm so sorry Italy… I couldn't keep my promise… I'm so sorry…_

Germania noticed his grandsons grief and his stoic demeanor softened a tone. "Don't look like that Holy Rome. Allow me to finish before you start crying." He said and Holy Rome lifted his head to look at his grandfather. Germania continued, "I said at the moment you are unable to go back as a country. The only reason you can't go back at the moment is because your dissolution was due to a violent death and your body needs to heal first, which may take a long time. You'll be able to go back and claim some of your brother Prussia's land." Holy Rome's eyes lit up, but then he frowned in confusion when Germania gave him a grim look. "However… There is a certain catch to going back."

Holy Rome hesitated. "What is the catch?"

Germania looked at Holy Rome directly in the eyes, blue staring into blue. "In compensation for going back and becoming a country again, you'll have to lose all of your memories of being the Holy Roman Empire." Holy Rome froze and he gawked at Germania.

Germania sighed and flicked Holy Rome on the forehead. "Don't stare at me like that. You will have to lose your memories if you go back, but they'll return to you- eventually. So, what do you want to do, stay here with me and the other faded nations, or return to earth and see Italy again?"

As soon as Germania said 'Italy' Holy Rome immediately said, "I want to go back."

Germania smiled and he stood up, offering his hand out to his grandson. "Very well, then. Follow me." Holy Rome took his grandfather's hand and stood up. As he was being led towards the place where he could be healed and reborn, he thought, _I'll keep my promise to you Italy, my love. But for now, I'll have to say goodbye for a little while. I look forward to the day where I can see your beautiful eyes again._

-56 years after the dissolution-

In a field where tall grass swayed, a man with pale skin and red eyes stood alone. He gazed at the ground, eyes glazed over in grief. This was the very place where he had lost his baby brother. All because of that _arschloch, _France.

The man sighed heavily and ran a hand through his snow white hair, looking at the grass and ground around him mournfully. He could almost still see the blood…

_The albino ran through the battlefield, passing multiple obstacles of rotting corpses or burning areas of grass. Pitiful cries of the wounded and screams of rage chorused through the man's ears, but he tried his best to ignore them and focus on the one thing that brought him to the battlefield in the first place. He had to find Holy Rome. He had to find his brother. _

_From the corner of his eye, the man saw a boy in a black cape being restrained by two French soldiers while one stood in front of the boy, with his sword raised. The man felt the world freeze as he watched the scene in front of him in horror. _

_When he finally came to his senses, the sword was already being brought down to thrust itself into the boy's heart. The albino screamed and he raced towards his brother, but just as he reached them, the sword had already pierced Holy Rome's chest and the boy was laying down in the ground, his blue eyes blank. _

_The French trio backed away slightly as the albino crashed through their ranks and knelt down beside the motionless boy. The man begged Holy Rome to wake up, shaking him, but to no avail. _

_The man let out a shuddering sob of sorrow and he clutched the dead boy's cape and sobbed into it. Sudden anger coursed through the man's body and he stood up, unsheathing his sword. The Frenchman's eyes widened and they spun around to try and escape, but the albino plunged his sword into each and everyone of their backs mercilessly. _

_The albino dropped his bloody sword and staggered backwards, looking at the mess he made. He dropped to his knees again and stared at the four bodies that surrounded him. Sobs racked his body and he sat down, clutching his knees against his chest and putting his hands over his ears, trying to cancel out the painful cries of the wounded._

_The man sat there, for how long, he didn't know. Then a hand touched his shoulder and the albino looked up and instantly seethed away from the person, a murderous glint in his sanguine eyes. The blonde man stepped back nervously, holding his hands in front of him. The albino stood up, pain and anger flashing in his eyes. He opened his mouth and spat out, "Don't touch me." _

_France winced and looked at Holy Rome's motionless body and swallowed. France returned his gaze to the albino and quietly said. "I just wanted to see if you were okay, Prussia_." _At the countries words, Prussia felt hysteria sink into him and he threw his head back and laughed. The laugh was not his normal obnoxious laugh, nor was it a laugh of joy. It was filled with pure hatred and bitterness._

_Prussia abruptly stopped laughing and he glared at France. "FINE? HOW THE FUCK CAN YOU THINK I'M FINE RIGHT NOW FRANCE? YOU JUST KILLED MY BABY BROTHER!" He screamed at him and Francis took several steps back. France had expected Prussia to be angry, but not _this _angry. His rage could rival Spain's when he was in conquistador mode in seconds. _

_France stared at Prussia, speechless and the albino turned his back on the Frenchman. Prussia picked up Holy Rome's body and began to walk away. Before he did, Prussia said, without looking back, "Do me a favor France. Don't look at me, don't talk to me, don't even _think _about me ever again. You got that?" France flinched at the cold tone the normally exuberant man used and cried, "I'm sorry, Prussia!"_

_Prussia stopped walking and he turned around and gestured at the flaming field and dead bodies around them. "Sorry won't fix this."_

Prussia sighed at the memory and looked up at the deep blue sky. He still hadn't forgiven France for taking away his baby brother. Raw pain and hate still harbored in his heart whenever he thought of the blank look in Holy Rome's dull eyes…

He closed his sanguine eyes and sighed. This depression had been going on continuously for the past fifty-six years. Everyone has been worried about him. Ever since holy Rome's death, Prussia withdrew himself from the outside world and stayed in his room pretty much the whole time. He even had his meals brought up to him, even though he rarely ate them. Spain had tried to visit him countless times, but he ordered his staff not to let him or anyone else in. Austria sent him multiple letters but Prussia never bothered to read them and Hungary even went as far as crashing through his bedroom window and confronting him herself. Not that he responded to her, anyway. Hell, he didn't even talk to Gilbird.

Someone tugged on Prussia's cape and he blinked. He looked down to see who was touching his cape and he froze. The person was a boy, a toddler, who's head only came up to the back of his knees. The boy was wearing a simple, long white tunic that flowed to his ankles, which had a blue ribbon at the collar of the tunic. The boy's blonde hair was ruffled slightly by the wind and the most peculiar blue eyes peered into Prussia's red ones. This boy looked exactly like Holy Rome.

Prussia stood, rigid as a rock. _Oh god… It can't be… How-_

The boy tipped his head to the side and asked, "_Wer bist du?(Who are you?)_" Prussia's heart ached. _Mein gott, _he even _sounded _like Holy Rome. Realizing that he had been asked a question, he crouched down in front of the boy, smiling coolly when on the inside he was almost bursting with excitement.

"_Hallo kleiner _kerl_. Ich bin der super Preußen . Wer sind Sie? (Hello little guy. I'm the awesome Prussia. Who are you?)"_ The boy blinked and hesitated for a moment and then he shook his head. _"Ich weiß nicht…(I don't know)"_ Prussia's heart plummeted slightly, but then he refused to give up hope.

"_Haben sie eltern? (Do you have any parents?)"_ Prussia asked the boy and the boy once again shook his head. This boy didn't have any parents and didn't know his name. That could only mean one thing. Prussia beamed and held out a hand to the boy. _"In diesem fall können sie kommen und mit mir leben, dein großer __bruder Preußen . (In that case, you can come and live with me, your big brother Prussia.)"_

The boy blinked and nodded, taking Prussia's hand. Prussia grinned and picked the boy up and hugged him. The boy blinked sleepily and closed his eyes, resting his head against Prussia's chest. Prussia smiled and felt tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. He finally got his baby brother back.

Prussia carried the toddler, pondering over what he should call him. Even though he had him back, Prussia could barely bring himself to call the boy 'Holy Rome' again, so he decided to call him something else. Something Prussia-awesome worthy…

After giving it some thought, Prussia decided. _Yes… I think I'll call him Germany._

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><p><strong>This is one long ass song fanfic O.O<strong>

**Oh well. Anyways, sorry if the German is kind of off, I got the translations from Google translate, which isn't the most reliable source.**

**Also there's something I wanted to add about Holy Rome coughing up ashes. I once read a doujinshi for the pairing USUK, that I believe is called 'Miracle of a Superhero', and it had a part where England was coughing up ashes because he was dying so I decided to use that in my story.**

**Translations:**

**Arschloch- Asshole (German)**

**Mein Gott- My god (German)**


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